


Always In This Twilight

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel getting the seat at Red Bull makes Jean-Eric realise how deep his feelings for Daniel are. He spends a lot of time thinking about Daniel and hiding from him. Daniel finally has enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always In This Twilight

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a lyric from the song 'Cosmic Love' by Florence + The Machine. Huge love and gratitude to gemjam who betaed and enthused :)
> 
> Set during the latter half of the 2013 season.

 

 

The news was out, but Jean-Eric didn’t hear it from Daniel. In fact, he didn’t see Daniel at all on the day that the 2014 number two driver for Red Bull was announced. Rumours had been swirling for months but Daniel had always pushed them aside – _you’ll know when I do_ , he’d told Jean-Eric with a shrug and waving eyebrows that spoke of his amusement at all the attention, _it’ll probably be Kimi anyway._

 

  
Jean-Eric hadn’t assumed much, but he had thought that he would hear the news from Daniel.

 

  
*

 

  
Maman hmmmed and said decisively it was good that a Toro Rosso driver was moving upwards, it was hopeful, yes? Red Bull were keeping their word. Jean-Eric would be next. Jean-Eric’s stubble scraped against the phone as he nodded. Of course. He was achieving more points than ever this year; of course Toro Rosso would sign him up again and then push him onwards. Of course.

 

  
He rubbed a clenched fist to his torso; many times recently he had felt as though there was a hard little ball rolling around inside of him. He hadn’t slept properly for almost a week.

 

  
He must have made some kind of noise because Maman paused and sighed “Ah, Jean…”

 

  
Jean-Eric’s smile cracked, because what more was there to say?

 

  
*

 

  
Daniel was always busy now; he had many media duties to fulfil as the forthcoming Red Bull driver and then he was getting dinner with Mark who apparently had some important things to tell him ( _probably thirty ways to mess with Sebastian_ Daniel had cheerfully laughed across the garage) and there was closed-doors meetings with Christian and then many more with Toro Rosso and Red Bull and all the practice sessions and the racing.

 

  
Jean-Eric spent more time than ever in the simulator and talked with the team and drove laps and did media duties in two languages. He didn’t sleep much.

 

  
Whenever he showered and his hand reached for his cock, he was overwhelmed by thoughts of Daniel’s smile and voice and his hand on Jean-Eric’s shoulder. It was one of the few things in Jean-Eric's life that hadn't changed recently. He hated himself a little for that, but he didn't stop.

 

  
*

 

  
“Where’ve you been hiding?”

 

  
Daniel’s smile was close to blinding and Jean-Eric was thankful that he had his sunglasses on. His mouth smiled even if his eyes didn’t.

 

  
“Work is hiding?”

 

  
Daniel jostled him, shoulder to shoulder. He looked tired, the corners of his eyes were more screwed-up than usual and his skin looked sallow. But his hair still curled distractingly whenever it was released from a Red Bull hat, and he still managed to smile with all his teeth. It hurt to look at him. That ball was rolling around inside Jean-Eric again. He looked away.

 

  
There was silence from Daniel, then his fingers, without warning, touched the soft skin of Jean-Eric’s wrist. Jean-Eric's heartbeat stuttered, but still he could not look at Daniel. He had so many words stoppered up inside.

 

  
“This kind of work is fun though.”

 

  
Daniel had spoken instead. He was picking up a Playstation controller, his fingers had left Jean-Eric’s wrist, so why did it feel like they were still right there? Like Daniel’s fingerprints were indelible on his skin? Jean-Eric blinked and took the offered controller, watching as his fingers selected a car to race with, loud music pouring from the screen.

 

  
He didn’t watch Daniel, he couldn’t.

 

  
*

 

  
There was a countdown now, a countdown to when Daniel would be leaving. He wasn’t going far really, Toro Rosso and Red Bull were very much intertwined, but it was still a big change.

 

  
Jean-Eric had lost teammates before; it was the nature of the business. But this, this felt different. This felt like his maman’s sigh from another country.

 

  
The countdown continued to tick, Jean-Eric continued to work (hide) and not sleep. The ball continued to roll around his stomach.

 

  
*

 

  
Daniel brought him a plastic box full of what could have been croissants. Jean-Eric, sunglasses tucked into his shirt pocket, raised deeply-questioning eyebrows. Daniel dropped a handful of little foil-wrapped pats of butter and grinned down at Jean-Eric. The expression didn’t look quite right, there was something strained at the edges.

 

  
“Shitty French breakfast?”

 

  
Jean-Eric looked back down at the croissants. “You are half right, it is shitty but it is not French.”

 

  
Daniel pointed to the French flag visible on the container's label. Goosebumps broke out across Jean-Eric’s skin; he remembered Daniel’s hand touching his wrist. He had a catalogue of memories like that; they slipped through his mind like welcome water and surrounded him at night.

 

  
“Just because it looks French doesn’t mean it is French.”

 

  
Daniel’s smile was sadder now and his hand wavered near Jean-Eric’s arm for a very brief second before gripping him there, warm and friendly. The hesitation was so brief that Jean-Eric might have missed it, but he didn’t. He didn't eat the croissants.

 

  
*

 

  
He got the word soon after that – Toro Rosso wanted him for another year. He called his parents, who were thrilled. His maman didn’t sigh, but there was something important whispering in her voice. Jean-Eric bought himself a handful of beers and was cracking the lid off one of them when his phone buzzed. It had been doing that constantly since the news had broken. Warmth spread through him as he thumbed open the message, the splash of beer on his fingers cool and tempting. To have so many people pleased for him was a good feeling.

 

  
The text was from Daniel _Good on you. You deserve it. Looking forward to you eating my dust :)_

 

  
The whole day made something settle deep in Jean-Eric’s bones. But his disturbed sleep did not improve and he still ached.

 

  
*

 

  
“Maybe later,” he said with a shrug whenever he ran into Daniel and Daniel tried to make plans for them to spend time together. “Maybe later.”

 

  
Daniel didn’t have much free time after all, not only was he still attempting to gain more points for Toro Rosso, but the demands on him as the future number two Red Bull driver were increasing. He was drifting out of reach.

 

  
There were many things that neither of them were saying. What could Daniel say? Sorry for being successful? Sorry that I’m achieving what I’ve always dreamed of? Jean-Eric had told Daniel congratulations, he had told the media that he was looking forward to achieving the same thing in the future and that Daniel was a great driver and teammate.

 

  
There were still many things left unsaid though, and Jean-Eric was keeping it that way.

 

  
*

 

  
Jean-Eric sliced tomatoes and peppers. Butter, red onion, and bacon sizzled in a pan. His feet were bare and the sun was weakly warm through the window. The feeling was a good one.

 

  
Then a key scraped in the lock and Daniel walked in, beers in hand and determination tensing his jaw. Jean-Eric clenched his teeth and poured the sliced vegetables into the sizzling pan. He had to concentrate; he had to not look at Daniel.

 

  
Daniel was moving; glass jars and bottles clanking as he shoved things about in the fridge. There was no talking though, which was unusual for Daniel. It set Jean-Eric’s teeth on edge. Why was Daniel silent? What was stewing inside of him?

 

  
For the first time in a while, it was Jean-Eric who broke the quiet between them; a silent Daniel unnerved him too much. “That key is for emergencies.”

 

  
“Not being funny, mate, but this kind of is an emergency.”

 

  
Jean-Eric snorted, derisive and pained, hands and eyes focused on stirring the pan’s steaming contents. Daniel’s feet were loud on the wooden floor and the warmth of his presence, suddenly near, made Jean-Eric’s eyes close, just for a moment.

 

  
Daniel sounded casual, but there was a bite of hurt and anger to his words. “You avoid me for days; right after I get the seat, that’s not an emergency?”

 

  
“You-.”

 

  
Jean-Eric forced himself back into silence; he was not going to say _you started it_. That was ridiculous, even if it was true, and it would make his maman sigh, his papa also. He reached for where the plates were stored but Daniel got there first, keeping the cupboard door closed. His free hand reached for Jean-Eric’s wrist.

 

  
Jean-Eric’s throat constricted. All that had been left unsaid for so long now – since before Mark’s departure, before Daniel had drifted away - was clawing up inside of him, howling to be released, but Daniel didn’t deserve that. Why would Jean-Eric weigh him down? Daniel already had enough to think about.

 

  
“ _Talk_ to me.”

 

  
It was a plea and something had happened to Daniel’s voice because it sounded like it was breaking. Jean-Eric couldn’t look at him; he couldn’t see what he’d done to Daniel. Daniel’s fingers danced at Jean-Eric’s wrist, smoothing the tender skin there, begging for an answer.

 

  
Daniel didn’t change the subject or walk away, not this time. Daniel, Jean-Eric realised with great foreboding, was not going to leave. Fuck.

 

  
“I…this is…”

 

  
Daniel laughed, the sound rife with splinters. “Well, it’s gotta be something big to get your words wrecked like that.”

 

  
The hard ball was back in Jean-Eric’s stomach and Daniel was so close, so worried, so beautiful. Jean-Eric could claim that there was nothing to talk about, Daniel would be angry but soon they would not see each other so much and all the aches would fade in time, yes? Only, he had felt increasingly pained since Daniel’s good news, the pain showed no sign of leaving, and Jean-Eric did not think he could continue carrying such weight.

 

  
The vegetables sizzled in the silence, light wisps of smoke twisting around Jean-Eric and Daniel. Daniel’s hand stayed at Jean-Eric’s wrist. Jean-Eric's lips curled and he shook his head, his breath falling in his maman’s sigh. A handful of words took their chance and escaped.

 

  
“You move on and I stay, I am glad of course because you earn this and when I too have a Red Bull seat, I will beat you once more.”

 

  
Jean-Eric smiled as he spoke, because it was all true. He wanted to race in a better car, for the bigger team, but the person he would always want to beat was Daniel. It had been that way for so long now, Jean-Eric couldn’t imagine it ever changing, and he knew that Daniel felt the same.

 

  
There was a shifting of fabric and bare feet and Daniel peered at him as though he would find secrets beneath Jean-Eric’s skin. The intensity in his gaze made Jean-Eric’s breath stutter. Before he could say anything, Daniel’s mouth curved upwards, like giddy triumph, and he closed the distance between them.

 

  
Jean-Eric was aware of an outpouring of heat throughout his body, he was aware of Daniel's hands stroking his skin and combing through his hair, but it still all felt like a hazy background compared to the sensation of Daniel's mouth on his. Daniel kissed like he was trying to say something and Jean-Eric kissed back, because truly how could he not? Daniel was kissing him, like a shower fantasy, like a dream that Jean-Eric had never believed was possible. He drank it in, wrapping helplessly possessive arms around Daniel's waist.

 

  
Daniel broke away far too soon, unexpected laughter bubbling from his lips. “Seriously? _Now_ you’re talking?”

 

  
Jean-Eric's forehead creased and he realised, belatedly, that words had been pouring from him as his lips had explored Daniel's. Daniel hadn't been the only one trying to say something. Jean-Eric kept his arms locked around Daniel, one taste and already he was addicted. Because it was Daniel and who knew if this was simply a strange and wonderful one-off experience? A moment of madness triggered by his world being thrown into high gear. People did strange things when stressed. Jean-Eric was going to enjoy every morsel of it.

 

  
Daniel shook his head. “Is this why you started acting weird?”

 

  
Jean-Eric's laugh was short and his fingers dug into Daniel's hips. Daniel's breaths shortened at the sharp contact, causing Jean-Eric to smirk. He moved his hands lower, grabbing firm Australian behind. Daniel retaliated by pinching Jean-Eric's thigh hard enough to sting. Jean-Eric's grip tightened.

 

  
“So that's a yes...”

 

  
Daniel's voice was a little strained. Jean-Eric admired the flush of Daniel's skin, how prettily he responded to Jean-Eric's touch. It was better than any of his wandering thoughts; thoughts which he'd always assumed had to fade because lust for a straight friend never ended well. Only, once Daniel had begun moving on without him, Jean-Eric had discovered how unswayingly rooted his thoughts were.

 

  
He dipped his head closer, his lips grazing Daniel's throat. “You are leaving.”

 

  
It was a statement full of yearning and layers of meaning and Daniel turned his head, trailing biting kisses along Jean-Eric's jaw. His lips brushed Jean-Eric's briefly. He was smiling.

 

  
“Fuck, you’ve really got no idea, have you?” There was a laugh in his voice now. “I figured you were mad about Red Bull's choice.”

 

  
Jean-Eric shook his head, grasping for the right words because now that he had tasted Daniel, now that he had held him, he could not pretend again that he didn't yearn deeply for such things. He had been broken open; his next words were quiet and raw.

 

  
“I only wish I was there with you.”

 

  
Daniel pressed closer and his kisses became urgent, his hands devouring. He too had been broken open. Jean-Eric parted from him only to move the pan off the heat. Daniel erupted with laughter, his gaze soft and fond. It made Jean-Eric's heart turn over.

 

  
“God, never change.”

 

  
“We work something out if you call me God again.”

 

  
Daniel swiped at him; Jean-Eric pushed him towards the bedroom. Daniel was thrillingly eager, his hands unable to leave Jean-Eric alone. Jean-Eric catalogued everything, every touch, every kiss, every expression. He tipped Daniel towards the bed, stripping off Daniel's shirt to finally touch the unexplored skin underneath. His tongue paid loving attention to Daniel's nipples, gaining hands in his hair for his effort.

 

  
Daniel tugged at Jean-Eric's shirt. “C'mon, share.”

 

  
Daniel seemed just as interested as Jean-Eric in covering new territory. He used his mouth thoroughly for mapping and marking. Jean-Eric knotted a hand in the curls that had taunted him for so long. Daniel was whispering, pleading urgent fragments into skin, _don't let go, so fucking hot, no one else_. Jean-Eric moaned and sucked a firm bruise on Daniel's neck. It would only just be covered by a racing suit.

 

  
Daniel was looking at him like he could vanish at any moment, intertwining their fingers like a lifeline. Jean-Eric held on just as tightly. Their conversation was without words now that the important ones had finally been said.

 

  
Daniel ground his hips down like an emphatic statement, like proof of his serious intent. With his free hand, he fought to unbutton Daniel's jeans. Daniel helped him and wrapped their entwined hands around their now-free cocks. Their breaths were loud and their eyes were locked on each other. This wasn't a fantasy and it wasn't goodbye.

 

  
Daniel spilled first, accompanied by a stream of thickly-accented curses flowing from his lips. The way his expression twisted and slackened triggered something inside Jean-Eric and he followed soon after. Daniel slumped over beside him and lifted their joined hands to his mouth so that he could lick at the stickiness. Jean-Eric twitched and tugged his teammate closer. His mind was buoyant with images and plans, ideas that would not just remain fantasies, not anymore.

 

  
That hard little ball was starting to dissolve.

 

  
Daniel slapped at Jean-Eric’s waist, just as Jean-Eric’s mouth began exploring again. “That's for freaking me out, you shithead.”

 

  
Jean-Eric bit hard at Daniel’s ear but Daniel didn't complain. In fact, the sound he made was gratifyingly like a sigh.

 

  
_-the end_


End file.
